ICY

twenty five.

JETSON

                          "Good morning Young"

"Ay Young, you feeling better? We got a lot going on today"

I pretended to be in a good mood as I made my way through the precent, greeting everyone as they called my name out to gain my attention. I hadn't been to work in a few days so it was to be expected, however at the moment I could only focus on one thing.

After closing myself in my office, I franticly searched my desk for the copy of the Jones case file. I was glad when I found it stuffed in between a few other cases, and at this point my heart was in my stomach.

Retrieving the photos, I confirmed my suspicion as I recognized Icy in the photo. While her hair was turquoise in the picture, there was no denying that was her face and I cursed myself for not making the connection. My detective skills definitely failed me then, and I began to ask myself did I even care that she was Isis.

It was true, the way I felt around her in that short time was more magical than I ever felt around Natalie, or any woman for that matter.

Despite how I felt, I knew I would never be able to be with Isis. Not only was she a stripper, but a prostitute. Knowing that, I began to think about our little mishap in the bed room and noted to get my self checked out as soon as possible. I also figured that was why she didn't want to tell me about her bruises, and I concluded she must've gotten those on the job as well.

Lastly, she was struck when I told her I was a detective, telling me she knew that at one point she was a suspect to a brutal crime.

"Shit" I hissed, flinging the papers off of my desk.

I was upset, but I couldn't place that anger on anyone but myself. I glanced at my phone, and even though I knew I shouldn't, I had to talk to her. After driving off from her home once she dropped the bomb to which was her name, my mind was speeding as I attempted to connect the dots. It was to the point that I hadn't even answered her call, and I knew she must've wondered why.

Opening her text thread, my stomach twisted at her messages as she expressed her need to talk to me. I let out a deep breath and turned my phone face down, contemplating on my next move.

Hearing a knock at my office door, I was relieved to have a current distraction from my dilemma.

"Come in" I stated, standing up to clean the small mess I made.

"You ready?" Nunez asked me as he strolled in.

I neatly piled the papers on my desk and reclaimed my seat, "Ready for what?"

"The Jones trial, it's today. We're testifying"
I ran my hands over my face, as I wasn't in the mood for that.

"And I'm guessing I can't say my cold is creeping back up huh?" I half joked and Nunez laughed.

"Hell no, unless you want Serg on your ass" he responded as we headed back out my office, "But don't worry, we should be in and out. Supposedly the D.A has it in the bag, and the judge has a hate for gold diggers who kill their husband. She's a widow" he snickered.

"Did we ever find more evidence besides the fact that she sent a threatening voice mail?" I questioned as I closed the space between my brows.

"Hell yeah, there was a gun case with no gun, the exact weapon Jones was shot with. Plus, what wife you know that's sticking around once they find out their husband is a pimp" he said giving me a knowing look.

I shrugged and shook my head, deciding the evidence was slightly stacked against her and maybe Isis was innocent. However it didn't make up for the fact that she was one of his workers, or that she was scared of the police for a specific reason she never truly revealed.